


Your Name Engraved Herein

by Finally_Home



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Free Will, It's hard to explain, M/M, One Shot, Psychological, Self-Harm, Slice of Life, Suicide, cyclical story, emotionally unstable kun, kun goes crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28740789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finally_Home/pseuds/Finally_Home
Summary: As long as he could remember, Kun has been able to see right and wrong.TW: self-harm, anxiety, suicide
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Your Name Engraved Herein

**Author's Note:**

> [crowd lu - your name engraved herein](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m78lJuzftcc)  
>  [your name engraved herein - trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzfVBg54BGw)

As long as he could remember, Kun has been able to see right and wrong. Well, right and wrong choices, specific to his life. They manifest in the form of green or red checkboxes, like video game dialogue choices, each leading him down the right or wrong path of life.

Sometimes, the choices are completely arbitrary. What does it matter that he has cabbage for dinner instead of bell peppers? But that’s probably the butterfly effect at work; even the smallest choices can have huge consequences on the future. Today’s cabbage means ten years later’s stability.

Most choices are much more logical. Compliment Mama on her new dress, even if it’s not pretty. Take Baba’s bag at the door and tell him about your day. Draw a mountain in calligraphy class; it’ll win a prize at some competition or another. Learn piano and guitar, then take up singing.

For all of his life, Kun’s followed the green choices to a T. In a world full of uncertainty, why wouldn’t he want to have a stable, fulfilling life? Besides, it’s not like he would have done anything dumb in the first place.

So he follows the green. Don’t eat hotpot today; your stomach will thank you. Date the pretty girl who keeps looking at you in class, then break up with her because it’s just not working. Major in physics instead of music composition. Go to college in Beijing. Live in a double suite instead of a single one. Introduce yourself to that professor; he’ll help you later in life.

Go to the library. Talk to Ten.

He meets Ten the second week of class, in the library reminiscent of Beijing International Airport. The original one, with the steel beams and floor-to-ceiling windows in Terminal 3. Not the new one. He doesn’t know what the new one looks like. Ten will, though; he came through there. The green choice says so.

“Hi,” he says, sitting down across from him. Ten looks up from his textbook, eyes wide and serious. He does not say anything, only raises an eyebrow. “Can I sit here?”

Ten reminds him of a cat, eyes sharp as he looks around. The library is unusually crowded today, and there are no other empty seats. Kun knows this because the green choice had told him so.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Ten finally smiles, the corner of his lips curving up. He clears the desk, gaze flickering to the books that Kun puts down. “Oh, are you taking Intro to Psych?”

“Yeah, it’s…” Kun rolls his eyes. “It’s a lot. I’m only taking it because I have to. I guess you’re taking it too?”

“Yeah, yeah!” A spark appears in Ten’s eyes, and he pulls out the orange textbook from his bag. “Have you done the reading yet? Or is that what you came for?”

“That’s why I’m here. I’m Kun, by the way,” says Kun, holding out a hand. Out the corner of his eye, he sees the choice box disappear in a flash of green light. “I’m majoring in physics.”

Ten laughs and leans back. “Who shakes hands nowadays?” But he takes his hand anyway, cheeks flushing just a bit. “Ten. It’s a nickname. Modern dance.”

Ten turns out to be unpredictable. He’s a Pisces, born one day before the Leap Day of 1996, almost two months younger than Kun. He’s 170 centimeters short but moves with the grace and fluidity of a predatory cat. He’s nationally Thai but ethnically Chinese and knows more stories than Kun, who grew up in China.

He’s also very pretty. Kun notices this one night as they study in Ten’s single suite, the lights turned up bright and the AC turned up high. The cold makes him sleepy, and next thing Kun knows, Ten’s shaking his shoulder.

“Kun, are you good?” he whispers, eyes wide in worry. Under the incandescent light bulb, his eyes are molten gold, and the stray hairs floating beside his head a halo. The way his bangs fall in front of his eyes; the way he shakes them back; the way he says Kun’s name; the way he smiles, gently, softly, as if talking to a kid and not his same-age friend; the way he holds his gaze for a little too long.

“I’m good,” he tries to say, but the words won’t come out. A choice box, familiar as his own name, flickers into view at the edge of his line of vision, its green and red checkboxes shining against Ten’s fuzzy orange sweater. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” Ten decides, and puts a hand on his forehead, eyebrows furrowing immediately. “Kun, you’re burning up.” Genuine worry colors his voice and he turns away. “Try to sleep some more, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“No.” He doesn’t know why he grabs Ten’s arm, or how he even summons the strength to do it. The air solidifies. Kun raises his head, trying to ignore the spinning world. “Don’t go.”

In the corner of his eye, the choices are still blinking. He needs to choose soon.

_ You can make it on your own; the dorm isn’t that far, and your roommate will be there. _

Green. Safe. A stable life. Ten moves closer, face still scrunched up in worry. “Kun,” he says, as soft as the spring wind. “I’m just going to get some medicine for you. I’ll still be in the room.” A pause. “Here, go lie down first.”

_ Stay with Ten for the night; he did offer, and you are quite sick. _

Kun closes his eyes. His heartbeat is too fast to be normal, and he’s cold but also too hot. The concept of gravity no longer exists, and the world is spinning around, sending him tumbling.

“Thank you.”

The choices disappear in a flash of red as Ten helps him sit on the bed. “Hold on a little bit longer, okay?” he says, pushing back Kun’s sweat-soaked bangs. “Just enough to take some medicine. Talk to me, Kun, tell me something, anything.”

His voice fades, and Kun doesn’t have the energy to think. “You’re pretty,” he manages to get out. “Your eyes are like…” Kun hasn’t had a fever since he was twelve. “Like sunlight. Gold.”

“Really?” Ten’s voice is unreadable, but he sounds closer than before. “Anything else you like about me?”

Anything else? Everything else. The way he walks, expertly avoiding the crowds even as he scrolls through his phone. The way he bites his straw when he drinks from a Starbucks cup. The way his nose wrinkles when he sees anything related to fruit. The way he laughs, the way he says Kun’s name, the way he looks at him like he’s the brightest star in the universe. 

“The way you exist,” Kun settles for, and hears a breathy laugh in front of him. “Really.”

Silhouetted against the light, Ten looks like an angel. “I know.” He’s holding a glass of water. “Open your mouth, Kun.”

_ Don’t open your mouth; you can take the medicine yourself. _

_ Open your mouth. _

Kun opens his mouth. The pills are bitter, but quickly washed down by a sip of water from the glass held to his dry lips. Ten helps him lie down, then turns off the lights. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll go study in the common room.”

He’s asleep before the door even closes.

He and Ten grow close. Not a day passes where they don’t meet, whether to study, to eat, or simply to talk. Kun’s choices appear more and more frequently; the majority of them center around Ten, and the majority of them end up red.

Kun knows that a few wrong choices won’t affect the rest of his supposedly-stable future, but the rush of adrenaline that comes with making a wrong choice is unfortunately addictive, as is everything to do with Ten. The way his eyes sparkle when they hang out, the small side glances that he throws at Kun when he thinks he’s not paying attention, the bounce in his step whenever they walk together, the quicker-than-light touches that seem to mean something more.

He wants it to mean something more.

One night, it does, lying in the comfort of Ten’s single-person bed, breaths hot on each other’s skin because the central heating isn’t warm enough and the school won’t spend the money to turn it up. Ten’s half-asleep, shifting closer with tiny whines, hair tickling Kun’s nose. He might be drifting off, but Kun can’t be more awake, shifting away just as subtly until his back hits the wall and he lets out a hiss.

“The wall’s cold,” Ten suddenly says, not sounding sleepy at all. “I’m warmer, I promise.”

Silence. Kun swallows, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His heart beats wildly in his chest and he feels guilty, but for what he doesn’t know. “I…” He doesn’t know what to say, and the choices appear almost immediately.  _ Say you’re sorry, you wanted to give him some privacy. _ Or, the red choice that taunts him:  _ Admit the truth. _

What’s the truth? Kun doesn’t want to go with the green choice, doesn’t want to push Ten away, but he can’t choose red if he doesn’t know what the truth is.

“You…?” Ten asks. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, but Kun knows that he’s not going to wait forever. The choice box won’t either, and if he doesn’t choose soon, the choice will default to green.

So what is the truth? What does he have to admit? What is there to admit in the dead of night underneath the pall of darkness? Ten shifts again, and the faint yellow light from the hallway falls onto his face, casting shadows where angles are sharp and illuminating where skin is smooth.

Kun should know. He does know.

“I like you,” he breathes out, taking Ten’s face in his hands. In the dim light, Kun sees his eyes widen. “I like you so much, Ten, have from the moment I saw you, you’re beautiful and funny and nice and talented and you make me feel wanted and special and like my life finally means something.”

Something outside the perfect, stable life planned from the beginning, he doesn’t add, but it’s true. Ten is like a whirlwind, ripping up everything in his way and leaving everyone he interacts with in a daze. He tore Kun’s life from its roots, upended his idea of what life means and taught him how to live. Unstable, like a stick of dynamite that might go off at any moment, but to Kun, whose entire life has been mundane and gray, Ten is a bonfire.

He feeds the stray cats on campus and volunteers at the art museum and goes to debate club and he always smells like strawberries despite not liking fruit and Kun falls in love with him, with the hypocritical, contradictory walking mess that is Chittaphon Ten Leechaiyapornkul.

In the darkness, Ten moves ever closer, slinging a leg over Kun’s waist. “You fool.” His voice shakes, and his hands do too. Kun’s not sure if he’s too hot or too cold. “You’re so dumb, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He swallows, then presses their foreheads together. “I know.”

Red dominates Kun’s life, and all of it has to do with Ten.  _ Kiss Ten in the library _ , he chooses,  _ run your hand down Ten’s chest _ ,  _ introduce Ten to your roommate but don’t tell him about the relationship _ , _ stay at school over winter break because Ten’s not going back _ ,  _ climb the monkey bars with Ten _ , Ten, Ten, Ten. It’s always Ten.

Slowly, Kun can feel himself turning into the person he once swore to never become. His grades slip; the only thing he ever thinks about is Ten. He stops talking to his friends; all he needs is Ten. The green choices disappear, leaving him only with one red choice. His life is going downhill, and Kun knows that someday, the choices he makes will lead to his demise.

But he doesn’t care. He’s spent too long living for the future that he’d never learned to live in the moment. And Ten’s willing to teach him, live with him, splash color into his life and breathe life into his being, so why would he care about the future when the present is so bright?

It still happens one day. It comes unexpectedly, catching him off-guard, and the next thing Kun knows, the choices disappear entirely, replaced by a glowing red dialogue box that explains the consequences of each action he takes. He’s still making the wrong choices— _ fries for dinner: you will lose your homework and be unable to turn it in on time _ —but now, he can’t do anything about it. He can only sit and watch the world burn, watch the consequences of every innocuous action unfold into disaster.

Yogurt for breakfast?  _ Your roommate will argue with you over taking out the trash _ . Walk slightly faster than normal?  _ The person who sits next to you will spill his water on your notes during lecture _ . Recommend that song to Ten?  _ He’ll hate it but tell you that he loved it anyway _ .

Kun can’t take it anymore. He goes crazy, wild, rips out his hair and smashes his things. His roommate drags him to counselling, but he puts up an act and comes back pretending to be fine. Ten runs his fingers through his hair and whispers comforting things, but Kun knows what he’s thinking, he knows, the dialogue box tells him. He skips class and fights a homeless man, gets beat up and bleeds but he can’t feel anything anymore.

Who is the person staring back at him in the mirror? The dark circles underneath his eyes stand out sharply against his too-pale skin, and he’s lost weight. His hair hangs limply over his forehead, bloodstained and damaged, as his chest heaves. Where did everything go wrong? How did everything go wrong? He grips the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white, heart pounding so hard he thinks he might puke.  _ One more choice, _ he begs.  _ Just one more choice, one more of my own accord _ .

The dialogue box doesn’t respond.

“You knew the deceased?”

“I was his… friend.”

“How long have you known him for? Was he always like this?”

“Since the beginning of the school year, and no, no. He was… he was a little shy, at first. It felt like he had been studying his whole life and didn’t know how to have fun, so I took him out, we had fun together. I didn’t, I didn’t know it would end up…”

“Well, the deceased’s roommate found him on the ground in the bathroom, blood sprayed across the mirror and shower, with your name carved on his arm. Any idea as to why…?”

“...no. Sorry.”

“...we’ll give you a moment.”

“He, I, we were, we were close. Yeah. We were close.”

“I’m sure you were. Did he say anything to you in the days leading up to his death? Anything weird that might have worried you?”

“I thought he was stressed, I told him to stop worrying, he said that, that free will, humans have free will, he said he wanted it again, he said he wanted to be able to choose his life and this time he would do it right, he would balance his choices between red and green, and I thought it was, I—”

“He felt like he had no free will?”

“That’s what I thought. I thought maybe his parents were too controlling, or maybe he felt stuck in his major but his parents wouldn’t let him change it, or something, something small like that, I didn’t know, I didn’t realize—”

“We understand that you cared very much for him. Please accept our sincerest condolences.”

“...ng him back.”

“Sorry?”

“Condolences won’t bring him back. It won’t bring him back.”

“...we’re very sorry, Mr. Lee.”

The police leave his room as clean as it’d never been. Ten is a neat person by nature, but after meeting Kun, it’d always been a little bit messy. Papers on the desk, pencils on the floor, clothes thrown everywhere. Ten had often whined about it, threatening Kun to clean it up before he kicked him out, and Kun always had, that spark in his eyes like he knew Ten didn’t actually mind.

But now he’s gone, and there’s no one to mind or not mind anymore.

The passage of time means nothing now, and the next time Ten comes to his senses, the sun is low in the sky, washing over the world in red. Blood red, like the arcs painted across the mirror in that small bathroom. Ten doesn’t want to think about it. Kun had carved his name on his arm, likely his last action before dying, or the very action that killed him in the end. But why? If he wanted to die that badly, why would he drag Ten, kicking and crying, into it? Why would he hurt him even more than he already had?

Tears don’t come to Ten’s eyes, but his breath shakes. Near the corner of his eye, something materializes. A box, like confirmation for a game event. 

_ Restart? Please choose yes or no. _

Green is yes, red is no, and suddenly, Ten understands. He understands everything, why Kun had cried over the illusion of free will, how he chose green or red, why he’d gone crazy, why he’d chosen to die.

He hadn’t; he didn’t have a choice.

If Ten restarts, would Kun’s life restart as well? Would everything start over from the beginning? Would Kun choose right this time? Would they even meet, or would his green choices take him away, far away, or would the tragedy repeat?

Ten doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. 

As long as he could remember, Kun has been able to see choices, those specific to his life. They manifest in the form of green or red checkboxes, like video game dialogues, each leading him down the right or wrong path of life.

Sometimes, the choices are completely arbitrary. What does it matter that he has potatoes for lunch instead of lettuce? But that’s probably the butterfly effect at work; even the smallest choices can have huge consequences on the future. Today’s potatoes means ten years later’s stability.

Most choices are much more logical. Compliment Mama on her new shoes, even if you don’t like them. Take Baba’s bag at the door and ask him for help on your homework. Write a poem in calligraphy class; it’ll win a prize and you’ll be in the newspaper. Learn piano and then take up voice lessons.

For all of his life, Kun’s followed the green choices to a T. In a world full of uncertainty, why wouldn’t he want to have a stable, fulfilling life? Besides, it’s not like he would have done anything dumb in the first place.

So he follows the green. Eat a salad today instead of rice. Date the pretty girl who keeps looking at you in class, and keep dating her throughout high school. Cover up the birthmark on your arm; it scares people away. Major in music composition; tell your parents how much it means to you. Go to college in Guangzhou. Live in a single suite instead of a double.

Go to the library. Talk to Ten.

**Author's Note:**

> yes YNEH is a movie, it's on netflix, it's about gay, it's sad, i cried. no i do not know what is going on in this story, this was for a contest over on aff ([here](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1469827/pick-your-poison-writing-contest) is the link for those of yall interested), and yes there were prompts. 
> 
> i wanted to write smth simple but no somehow i guess i had to tie in the concept of free will. this was bad, i admit it, just like my mental state, so please, please, please, do not comment about how bad and illogical and badly-written it is because i know. i wrote it. i know.
> 
> edit: if there are any tags/TWs that i missed or that you think should be tagged, please tell me!


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